


I Can Keep You Safe

by orphan_account



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 05:31:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14710040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Ron knows that he was born to be the brunt of his father’s rage, and fulfilling that role was necessary for his own survival. After all, it was all he ever knew.But that was before he met Carl Grimes.





	I Can Keep You Safe

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for brief mentions of domestic abuse.

“Look, man – I get it,” Carl asserts with a huff, holstering both guns. “But you need to know something. Your dad was an asshole.” It’s proclaimed as though it should be some sort of revelation – as if it wasn’t already obvious, as if Ron had lived for seventeen years beneath his father’s iron fist and somehow remained blissfully ignorant of Pete’s true nature.

Ron is silent for a moment and lifts his chin, biting his tongue as not to say something he’ll regret later. He has already threatened Carl’s life once today, which by itself was a grave mistake. But what else was he to do; tell Carl directly that he would rather die than live in a world like this? No, he’d rather take Carl down with him than expose his weaknesses, for that would mean being vulnerable. Though now, Ron no longer has control over the situation. Carl has him backed into a corner, both physically and figuratively.

The fact of the matter is that as much as he tells himself he hates Rick Grimes, as much as he tries to, Ron can’t help but be jealous of Carl. It’s so painfully evident that Rick would do anything and everything to ensure his son’s wellbeing. That was all Ron ever wanted from his own father, and Rick had eliminated the hope of that ever happening. Rationally, he knows it’s unreasonable to blame Rick for that. If Ron is honest with himself, his hope had been snuffed out long before the world ever came to an end. He knew that Pete would never change. It’s just so unfair, it’s so fucking contemptible, but it figures nonetheless. He’s made countless attempts to justify it, to tell himself that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t deserve all that his father did to him, but Rick’s act of ‘mercy’ was ultimately futile. Ron knows that he was born to be the brunt of his father’s rage, and fulfilling that role was necessary for his own survival. After all, it was all he ever knew.

But that was before he met Carl Grimes.

‘I can keep you safe,’ he had said just moments after saving Ron’s life, and what sickens Ron the most is that he knows Carl meant it. Boys like Carl Grimes don’t just say things they don’t mean. But Ron doesn’t need anyone to keep him safe; he is perfectly capable on his own. Even so, he cannot shake the nagging thought – what if he accepted Carl’s offer? Along with apprehension for the future and remorse for the past, these are the thoughts that keep him awake at night.

“No shit,” he finally counters, not necessarily avoiding eye contact but rather gazing at the ceiling almost dazedly. His anger is displaced; he’s blaming Carl and his father for his pain when the one truly responsible is in the ground. And for some reason, he feels like crying. Here is the one person who had ever bothered to save him, and Ron is nothing but unapologetically hostile. It’s hard to stop when he gets like this, and Carl is the last person Ron wants to watch him crumble. Hot, angry tears spring into the corners of his eyes. He wants to punch something. “You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t fucking know that?”

Although he had not been expecting much of a response, Carl isn’t surprised by the outburst. It’s clear that Ron is close to his breaking point. He doesn’t want to exacerbate it, but he doesn’t want to suppress it, either. He knows all too well what good that does. “I get it, Ron—”

“No, you don’t. You don’t get it, Carl,” he spats, inhaling shakily before continuing. “You’ll never get it because your dad isn’t like my dad. You never had to hear your mom scream when he’d had too much to drink, or hide in the closet and hold your brother until it was over. You never had to steal your mom’s makeup to hide the bruises on your arms. And you never had to accept his apologies the next morning, knowing it was gonna happen all over again that night.” He doesn’t know why he’s telling Carl all of this except that he’s angry and can’t control his tongue. “You don’t get it.” His voice cracks and he winces, running a hand through his hair and sighing. He shouldn’t have lashed out like that. “I’m sorry, Carl.”

Carl was angry before, and he is furious now, though it’s not at Ron. It takes him a moment to swallow that fury and speak tenderly. “No,” he says with a shake of the head. “I’m sorry. Ron, I—”

“You don’t have to be.”

“You just don’t have to do it alone, you know? It’s… it’s not good. For you or for anyone.” Carl of all people knows that.

Ron scoffs. “Well, who do you expect me to talk to? My mom? My kid brother? My ex-girlfriend?”

“ _Ron_.”

He knows what that means. He knows the conclusion that Carl wants him to draw. He just can’t do it, he can’t say it. He can’t tell Carl that the one person he’s needed this entire time is standing right in front of him. It’s too painful when things are the way they are now. In a way, it’s almost… embarrassing? It’s a feeling he can’t place – it’s something like shame. It’s just as nagging, except it’s warmer and less raw. And he knows that while his heart yearns for acceptance, it would be too good to be true. Carl doesn’t need Ron like Ron needs Carl, right? That would be ridiculous to assume. Maybe that’s why Ron has resisted him so much.

“It’s not good for you to do it alone,” Carl reiterates, almost pleading with him. Why doesn’t he understand? Why can’t he understand that he simply wants to be there? It doesn’t matter that he has fallen for Ron. He does a good job of hiding it. He doesn’t even care if Ron feels the same, in fact, he has absolutely no intent to tell him. He just wishes Ron would allow him to treat him well, to show him the love he deserves. “Just let me try, Ron.”

Ron is silent. Carl steps forward.

The back of his hand brushes Ron’s cheek in attempts to dry the tears. Of course, this only serves to smear them across his skin, but it’s the sentiment that matters. To Carl’s wonder, he softens under the touch. He’s still shaking, but he glances up to meet Carl’s gaze. This elicits even more tears, pooling within green and gold. Somehow, Ron suddenly feels alright crying in front of Carl. He hasn’t broken, not at all. Carl is holding him together, and in retrospect, the hope that Carl embodies has kept him alive for a while. Only now is he noticing it, only now after the smallest act of compassion.

“We should get back,” Carl mutters. “They’ll think something’s wrong.” With that, he places his hand on the gun at his side and turns towards the door.

“Wait, Carl.”

He glances back around to find that Ron has very quickly closed the distance between them. Ron doesn’t know what he wants. He doesn’t know why he called Carl’s name. (Yes, he does.)

“Never mind.”

But it’s obvious to Carl, especially with the pinkish tint that settles over Ron’s cheeks. He offers a tiny smile of amusement, reaching with his free hand to brush Ron’s hair out of his face. He stands up on his toes to peck Ron’s cheek, but is surprised when Ron tilts his head to catch his lips in a kiss, soft and sweet. They linger momentarily, long enough for Carl’s eyes to flutter closed, until he pulls away and gestures towards the door.

“Come on. Everything’s going to be fine.”


End file.
